the mystery. He knew that
since she made "Solitude" her place of residence, Mrs. Gerome had
never met Muriel's governess, and he conjectured that she had either
known her in earlier years or now alluded to another person bearing
the same name. Miss Dexter was very fair, with a profusion of light
yellow hair, and suited in all respects the incoherent description
that fell from the sick woman's lips.

While at home for a short time that afternoon, Dr. Grey had spoken of
the dangerous condition of his patient, and asked the governess if she
had ever seen or known Mrs. Gerome. Without hesitation, Edith Dexter
quietly replied in the negative.

Formerly he had indulged little curiosity with reference to the
widow's history, but since she had become endeared to him, he was
conscious of an earnest desire to possess himself of a record of all
that had so darkened and chilled the life of the only woman he had
ever loved.

Once she had been merely an interesting psychological puzzle, and in
some degree a physiological anomaly: but from the day of Elsie's
death, his heart had yielded more and more to the strange fascination
she exerted over him; and now, as he sat looking into her face, so
mournfully sharpened and blanched by disease, he acknowledged to his
own soul that if she should die the brightest and dearest hopes that
ever gladdened his life would be buried in her grave.

Thoroughly convinced that his happiness depended on her recovery, he
prayed continually that if consistent with God's will, He would spare
her to him, and save him from the anguish of a lonely life, which her
love might bless and brighten.

But above the petition,--above all the strife of human love, and hope,
and fear,--rose silvery clear, "Nevertheless, Father, not my will, but
Thine."

During his long vigils he had allowed imagination to paint beautiful
pictures of the To-Come, wherein shone the figure of a lovely wife
whose heart was divided only between God and her husband,--whose life
was consecrated first to Christ, secondly to promoting the happiness
of the man who loved her so truly.

The apprehension of losing her was rendered still more acute by the
reflection that her soul was not prepared for its exit from the realm
of probation, and the thought of a separation that would extend
through endless aeons, was well-nigh intolerable.

If she survived this attack, he believed that his influence would
redeem and sanctify her life; if she die